Making Up Is Hard To Do
by RogueHunter06
Summary: Alistair discovers married life is going to be difficult to juggle with the responsibilities of being Warden Commander when he gives Ayla an order following their encounter with Sigrun. She refuses to listen, leading to a big argument they are both too stubborn to fix. The other Wardens decide to intervene. Gift fic for Tactus501st, Awakening one-shot following Together.


_A/N: Hey, all! This is a gift fic for Tactus501st for writing the 50th review on Somewhere We Belong. The prompt was to cover the Deep Roads quest where you meet Sigrun in Awakening, and I had free rein to do whatever else I would like with it. So, I made into a one-shot from the Together or Not At All universe, directly following the events of that, so it is a sequel of sorts that takes place between Together and Somewhere We Belong. Obviously it stars Alistair and Ayla from Together, but if you're a first-time reader of my works, I think it should still stand up mostly on its own, though it will obviously help to be familiar with their world. Anyway, hope you all enjoy! And oops - forgot to edit this before I posted it, so you may get a double post, sorry!_

 _Disclaimer: Any events/dialogue/characters you recognize belong to Bioware, the rest is mine!_

Making Up Is Hard To Do

"Don't tell me, let me guess. Something doesn't feel right?" Alistair asked sardonically, looking down at Ayla as they reached the bottom of the man-made wooden stairs in the Knotwood Hills.

She shrugged, giving him a weary smile. "Good guess?" When Alistair snorted in response, she went on, "It has the same feeling of a trap that the Silverite Mine had – and the Keep, when we first arrived."

"And the tunnels beneath the Keep, before we closed them up?" Alistair added with a sigh, and she nodded. He shook his head, letting out a frustrated breath. Ever since the two of them had arrived at the Keep a couple of months ago for him to take his place as Warden Commander, there had been an endless string of problems and situations that had set off Ayla's instincts for danger. It was like the Blight all over again – maybe even worse, he thought wryly.

"But we got through all of that, like we always do," Ayla reminded him softly. "We'll get through this too."

He smiled at her, feeling his frustration fade a little and his heart lighten somewhat at her reassurance, and at the constant, soothing presence of her love for him that he could feel through their bond, like a warm blanket wrapped around him. He had no idea how he would have managed without her these past months; as if becoming the Warden Commander wasn't burden enough, he'd also discovered that he was now technically the Arl of Amaranthine, meaning that not only was he responsible for the Wardens, but also all the people of the arling and all the political decisions that brought with it. He had hoped he'd escaped bickering nobles when he'd turned down the throne, only to find that he still had to deal with them and all their problems, albeit on a smaller scale. As such, he was incredibly grateful for Ayla's unwavering support and love as she remained by his side, and for her invaluable input regarding both the arling and the Wardens. He was beginning to feel as though he might, some day, be able to manage both roles, though he felt far more confident about being the Commander than he did about being an Arl. Though it would take some time, he hoped that with her support and Seneschal Varel's, he'd eventually get it all figured out.

In the meantime, though, he had a lot to do, he reminded himself, starting with this hole into the Deep Roads that two hunters had stumbled upon that they'd come to investigate. "Thank you," he murmured to Ayla, and she smiled back at him as he added, "You're right, we'll figure this out."

By now, the others had joined them at the bottom of the stairs, and Alistair turned to address them. "Seems like we're about to walk into another possible trap, so be ready," he warned them, his own hand resting on his sword hilt.

"Bah, what else is new, boy?" Oghren snorted as he dug his ever-present flask out of his armor. "Just lead the way so I can hack up some darkspawn, already."

"Right," Alistair said with a sigh, turning and leading the way through the small, rocky canyon they'd descended into where the hunters had claimed the hole to the Deep Roads was.

They hadn't gone very far before Alistair knew the hunters had to be right; he could see the beginnings of dwarven ruins along the canyon, crumbled pillars sprouting up along the sides and a partially paved section of road ahead of them with weeds growing through the cracks. He could also feel the sickening tingle along his spine and up into the base of his skull that meant darkspawn were near. "There are darkspawn up ahead," he called back over his shoulder in a low voice. "Six of them. Can any of you feel them?"

"I can feel something," Nathaniel answered, sounding frustrated. "But I can't even tell for sure where or how many."

"It will take a few more months at least," Alistair told him. "Just keep focusing on that feeling, and eventually you'll be able to identify the differences. Come on, we'd better get rid of them before they decide to go exploring."

Alistair hurried ahead along the paved, cracked road in front of them, Ayla at his side and Oghren, Nathaniel and Anders following closely behind them. The road got steadily smoother as they went, and up ahead Alistair could see another cliff wall barring their way, with a turn branching off to the right. He could sense the darkspawn just around the corner, and readied his sword and shield, the others following his example. He skidded to a halt in shock shortly after turning the corner, however, momentarily stunned by the sight in front of him, and the others halted behind him.

The group of darkspawn was ahead of them, moving towards a deep, dark hole in the rock beyond, but the Hurlock at the back of the group was dragging a dwarf behind it by the leg. Alistair didn't know for sure, but given the fact that the darkspawn were taking the dwarf alive, he had the sickening feeling that the dwarven warrior with the horned helmet frantically kicking and struggling in the Hurlock's grip was in fact female. Just as he was moving to help her, his temporary shock gone, she managed to kick free and scramble backwards from the darkspawn, raising an axe in front of her as the Hurlock marched back towards her, the other darkspawn turning to aid it.

Alistair rushed forward to her aid along with the others, and it did not take long before the six darkspawn had fallen before them. When the last one was down, one of Nathaniel's arrows through its eye, Alistair turned to the dwarf, who was leaning over, hands braced on her knees.

"Well . . . that was. . . close," she managed breathlessly. "For a moment there I thought I was _really_ about to join the Legion of the Dead. I'm Sigrun, by the way. Thanks for your help."

"Are you all right?" Alistair demanded, a sickening feeling of fear twisting through him at the discovery that she was most definitely a female dwarf; though her geometric plate armor gave no real clue to her shape, the delicateness of her branded face beneath the helmet, the dark hair in pigtails and of course her voice were more than enough verification for him. And he could think of only one reason the darkspawn would have been trying to take her alive, one that he did not want to even contemplate, especially when he could feel the fear emanating from Ayla through their bond. It was the first time he'd ever really felt it so clearly, but he was sure that was what the feeling must be, knowing how Ayla felt about the broodmothers; the sensation of an icy cold wind whipping right through one's body, as though you would never be warm again, which only ratcheted up his own fear and worry. He tried to firmly tamp the feelings down as he awaited an answer.

Sigrun shrugged in reply, wincing a little as she did so. "I might have cracked a rib, but it's hard to be sure. Everything hurts."

"Anders?" Alistair asked, looking over his shoulder, and the mage nodded, coming up next to Sigrun and laying a glowing blue hand on her shoulder. The glow swept through every visible part of her body, and the slight furrow to Sigrun's brow disappeared as soon as the glow did.

"Thank you," Sigrun said in surprise, looking up at Anders.

He sketched her a brief bow. "You are most welcome, my lady dwarf. What did those darkspawn want with you, anyway?"

"Are they . . . trying to make broodmothers?" Ayla asked, anxiety threading its way through her voice. Alistair could feel her terror building, and it wrenched his heart painfully to know his normally brave wife was so terrified and there was nothing he could do to fix it. He slipped closer to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, for both of their sakes.

Sigrun nodded, looking grim. "I'm sure that's what they intended."

Nathaniel frowned, looking between the two women and then over at Alistair. "What are broodmothers, exactly?"

 _Maker._ Sometimes Alistair forgot how new Nathaniel and Anders were to the Grey Wardens, and how much he still had to teach them. Oghren, of course, knew all about broodmothers, as did Ayla; both of them had been present during the Blight when Alistair had learned far more than he ever wanted to know about broodmothers.

"Broodmothers are the way that more darkspawn are created," Alistair began slowly. "They were once women, human or dwarven or elven or Qunari, it doesn't matter, they just make different types of darkspawn. The women that the darkspawn take – they remake them, mold them in their own image . . . somehow, and they become horrible creatures whose only purpose is to birth hundreds more darkspawn." Alistair was actually fairly certain that he knew just how broodmothers were made, having heard Hespith's frightening poem during the Blight, but just the thought of it made him feel almost violently ill as he tightened his grip on Ayla, so he didn't bother elaborating on it to Nathaniel and Anders, who already looked sufficiently horrified at his description.

"Yes," Sigrun said quietly when no one said anything right away, "darkspawn are nothing if not predictable; they normally try to take every female they encounter." She looked reluctantly beyond them to the dark entrance. "Anyway, I can't chat for long. I should probably go back . . . as foolish as that sounds . . . see if there's anything I can do."

Alistair let go of Ayla reluctantly, moving to grip Sigrun's arm and halt her progress as she went to move beyond him. "Back to where? What part of the Deep Roads is down there?"

Sigrun stopped, looking up at him, and he let go of her arm as she said, "The old fortress of Kal'Hirol. There's something going on there. I think the darkspawn are breeding an army. The Legion went to investigate, but Kal'Hirol proved too much for us. It was a massacre. And now I . . . I'm the only one left." A sudden crushing sadness descended over her face as she finished.

"I'm sorry. I have some experience in that area myself," Alistair told her, feeling his own sadness well up at the unbidden thought of Ostagar. "It's . . . horrible to be one of the only ones left." He felt Ayla squeeze his hand, and he looked down at her; she gave him a sympathetic smile, and he squeezed her hand briefly in response, forcing himself to focus as he looked back at Sigrun.

"Yes, well . . ." Sigrun shrugged, looking uncomfortable before she went on, "The darkspawn have changed; they're smart now. They destroyed the Legion. I saw them taking some of the women and I wasn't about to stick around for _that."_

"I do not blame you," Ayla said softly. Alistair felt a fresh wave of terror pass through her, and he squeezed her hand again.

 _As if the darkspawn weren't bad enough before,_ he thought bitterly. Now they had this insane Architect they'd met in the Silverite Mine, along with his talking minions and darkspawn smart enough to wipe out the formidable Legion, and himself, Ayla, and the few Wardens he'd managed to gather so far were the only ones who could do anything about it. With that in mind, he nodded to Sigrun. "We'll go with you, help you avenge your comrades or hopefully rescue some of them, and find out just what the darkspawn are doing down here."

Sigrun's eyebrows shot up, astonishment written clearly on her face. "What? Really? Did I mention Kal'Hirol was a death trap? Why do you want to do this?"

Alistair sighed. "Well, unfortunately, I am a Grey Warden, so it rather comes with the territory."

"He's actually the Warden Commander for Ferelden," Anders supplied helpfully, grinning broadly when Alistair rolled his eyes. Anders had learned early on that he wasn't exactly comfortable with his new title, and thus took every opportunity to use it or bring it up.

"Yes, that makes it even better, doesn't it?" Alistair said dryly.

"Well then, my condolences," Sigrun said, her tone sincere before she turned back towards the entrance where the darkspawn had been heading earlier. "Let's not waste time. Kal'Hirol awaits, and darkspawn, when left to their own devices, get up to all kinds of nonsense."

"Just give me one minute," Alistair told her, holding up his hand to halt the others. He turned and looked down at Ayla, knowing that she wasn't going to be happy with his decision, but there was nothing else he could – or would – do. "Go back to the Keep."

Ayla took a step back, her eyes widening in surprise before they began to flare with anger. "You _must_ be joking. I'm not going back."

"Yes, you are," Alistair said firmly. "You heard Sigrun; they're taking women to be broodmothers. I will _not_ risk you like that. You're going back and that's an order."

"Excuse me?" she repeated incredulously. " _What_ did you just say to me? I'm not one of your Wardens! I'm your _mate!_ "

"I know that," he snapped. "That's exactly why I cannot risk losing you to the broodmothers! And if you're going to be coming on missions, you don't get to pick and choose which orders you get to follow!" He could feel her fear being replaced by anger, the sensation like a rolling thunderstorm, all heavy tension and charged air and booming noise, and it was only making his own anger and frustration worse, spiralling it beyond his control. Why was she being so stubborn about this? And how could she defy him in front of the others, when she knew how uncertain he still was about his position?!

"I can and I will, when you're making a decision that puts you and the others in danger," she growled at him. "The darkspawn have destroyed the Legion, and you want to go face them with _less_ people? When you know that they might be setting a trap, and when you know that my – " she darted a quick glance at Sigrun – "skills would be more than useful? I won't risk _you_ dying just because you're worried about me! And I've faced a broodmother with you before!"

"That was different! We were already well into the Deep Roads by then, and had no idea we'd be running into one! And we didn't see them actively taking women to be broodmothers then either!"

"I told you before, I go where you go, and nothing you can say will stop me," she got out through gritted teeth.

"Commander," Nathaniel quickly interjected before Alistair could fire a retort back at her, "we don't really have time for this. We need to go help the Legion, if there's anybody left, and I hate to say it, but we need all the help we can get."

"Fine!" Alistair snarled, throwing up his hands, angrier than he could ever remember being off the battlefield. As much as he hated to admit it, Nathaniel had a point, and there was really no way he could stop Ayla from coming along, though he hated that fact. "Let's go then." He stalked off towards the entrance, feeling anger equal to his own still emanating from Ayla. He turned back briefly to snap at her, "If something goes wrong, you'd better leave, understand?"

"I'll do what I like!" she shrieked back at him. "If I want to die for you, you stubborn, pig-headed idiot, I will!"

"You're calling _me_ stubborn?! By Andraste's flaming sword, you – ugh! Forget it!" He clenched his fists so tightly he could feel his gauntlets biting into his skin, before he whirled and stormed past Sigrun to the entrance, a hole shattered in the rock wall with stone steps leading down into the Deep Roads. He obviously wouldn't be able to get Ayla to listen to reason, so he could only do his best to make sure they didn't meet a fate similar to the Legion. And if it looked like they would . . . well. He'd simply have to deal with that when he came to it.

* * *

They hadn't gone far into the underground cavern, an immense place of craggy rock and ruined pillars and a winding underground river, when they spotted someone lying to the side of the road up ahead, dragging himself along. By now Alistair had managed to calm himself down for the most part, though he could still feel his anger simmering below the surface – and Ayla's as well. Still, he was able to focus on the mission now, and he hurried forward along with Sigrun, who dropped on her knees next to the wounded male dwarf, a red-haired dwarf with elaborate braids similar to Oghren's.

"It's Jukka. He's hurt. Bad," Sigrun exclaimed, checking over the dwarf's wounds as she cautiously flipped him over on his back.

"S-Sigrun ...?" the other dwarf croaked in response.

"Yes, it's me. Be still and try not to talk . . ." Sigrun looked anxiously from the various open wounds up to Alistair.

He'd crouched down by the dwarf as well and looked back at the others. "Anders, is there anything you can do?" Alistair was pretty sure he already knew the answer to that, however, judging by the severity of the wounds on Jukka's abdomen and thigh, and the blood pooling around the extremely pale dwarf on the ground.

Anders knelt on the ground next to Jukka, scanning him briefly with another glowing blue spell, and shook his head even as Jukka did. "Sorry, Commander, there's too much damage and blood loss. If there was another mage here, maybe, but just me . . ." He shook his head again, looking frustrated.

"He's right," Jukka groaned, sounding breathless. "I feel my death upon me. And it is a sweet release . . ."

"No, I have potions!" Sigrun cried, digging one out of her pack and trying to reach it toward Jukka. "I can help . . ."

Jukka knocked the potion aside and shook his head again. "You must listen! The . . . the broodmothers. They are breeding. I saw an . . . an army. You . . . you must . . . you must stop them. But . . . but beware the Children. They are abominations, even among darkspawn . . ." He let out a shuddering gasp, his sentence trailing off.

"What? What children? Whose children?" Sigrun exclaimed.

"Forgive me . . ." Jukka choked out, managing one more shuddering gasp before he collapsed limply to the ground, his head rolling to the side.

"He's gone," Anders said softly, and Alistair nodded, sighing. So much for rescuing anyone.

"Ancestors look kindly on you, brother . . ." Sigrun murmured before she stood up at the same time as Alistair and Anders did. "We have to finish what the Legion started. Those broodmothers need to be destroyed," she said, meeting Alistair's gaze firmly.

He nodded. "You're right, let's go." As they started off down the path again, he added quietly, "I'm sorry we couldn't do anything for him."

"It's all right, you heard him. He was ready to die. We all are – or should be," Sigrun muttered before she hurried on ahead.

"What children was he talking about?" Nathaniel asked in a low tone as they followed Sigrun, and Alistair shook his head.

"I don't know. It's not a type of darkspawn I've ever heard of . . . but then I didn't know there were talking darkspawn until a couple months ago, either. They've been just full of surprises lately," Alistair finished with a sigh. He glanced over at Ayla, who was walking nearby but further from him than she normally would, her anger simmering below the surface still, like a thundercloud in the distance. When he glanced at her, however, she shrugged in response to his questioning look.

"That's probably what's setting off my instincts, if there's a new type of darkspawn," she said. "Which is an even better reason for me to come along." Without waiting for his answer, she trotted off ahead to catch up to Sigrun.

Alistair scowled at her back, feeling his anger bubble up a little again. And she called _him_ stubborn.

"Ah, don't worry about her." Oghren came up next to him, offering his flask, but Alistair shook his head. He wasn't sure he trusted whatever Oghren had in there. "Women always think they're right. Anyway, we'll all keep an eye on her. Ain't no darkspawn taking anyone while I'm still swinging."

"Thanks, Oghren." Odd as the dwarf was, sometimes he really did manage to make Alistair feel better, especially when Anders and Nathaniel added their agreement that they would watch both women closely for any signs that the darkspawn were trying to take them away.

They made their way further along the path in silence after that, fighting a couple of small bands of darkspawn along the way, neither fight being anything out of the ordinary. Finally, they made their way up a small hill towards the entrance of Kal'Hirol, in front of the remains of an ancient drawbridge where they were attacked by a much larger band of darkspawn. Still, they were able to make it through this fight as well without any serious incident, and headed through the open gate afterwards into an equally ancient courtyard. Most of the walls surrounding the courtyard were still intact, as was the impressively large stone fortress that lay opposite the gate.

"The Legion got this far with no trouble," Sigrun said as they halted a few feet beyond the gate, scanning the bare courtyard. "We got careless, and complacent, and stormed the main entrance, up those stairs." She gestured at a large flight of stone stairs leading up to the double doors of the fortress. "It was a disaster. The darkspawn were waiting. They turned the thaig's old defenses against us."

"I suppose it's full of blade traps?" Alistair asked, remembering a few of those being in Caridin's Cross.

"And more," Sigrun agreed. "Ancient dwarven ingenuity, used by the very monsters it was intended to kill. We need to learn from the Legion's mistake. Avoid the main door."

"She's right." Ayla nodded at the door. "It's too dangerous to go straight in. There must be another way."

Alistair didn't really need either of them to tell him that the main door was a bad idea, not when he could sense at least a dozen darkspawn waiting just beyond those doors, but he nodded anyway as Sigrun said, "Most of the old dwarven fortresses had hidden side entrances. I bet this one does too. We just need to find it."

"Okay, let's all split up and search the courtyard for another way in," Alistair told the others, and they all began checking the walls around them.

Unsurprisingly, it was Nathaniel who found the passageway in the side wall, which was opened using a hidden switch in the face of a gargoyle statue, making a section of the wall slide down revealing a hidden entrance. They followed the tunnel along where it was dug through the rock face and it eventually led them into the main hall behind the darkspawn that had been waiting to ambush them at the front door. Alistair and the others attacked the darkspawn from behind while Nathaniel worked to disarm the various traps they'd set up, and their party was eventually victorious.

Alistair continued to lead the way through the fortress after that, as Sigrun said the Legion had not gotten beyond the entrance and so she had no idea which way to go. Alistair had an idea, given which direction he could sense the darkspawn in, although there was enough of them scattered throughout the vast fortress that he couldn't actually get a real count anymore, not that he bothered to share that with the others. Or the fact that he could sense a type of darkspawn he'd never felt before, which he knew had to be the Children.

Still, he didn't want to cause anyone to panic, so he simply led the way through the surprisingly intact fortress, which was only marred by the darkspawn blood and guts and the occasional crude statue of lumpy flesh they liked to decorate the Deep Roads with. In fact, the entire fortress was reminiscent of their foray into the Deep Roads during the Blight, right down to the shades they ran across in some of the rooms, though these shades didn't attack them like the others had. They seemed instead to be stuck in an endless loop of their final battle to hold Kal'Hirol against the darkspawn, however many centuries ago that had been.

They made their way past the shades, fighting through more small bands of darkspawn and sometimes large spiders. At one point after pushing through a large pair of double doors into a grand hall, they came across what looked like two factions of darkspawn fighting against one another. They took advantage of the distraction to join in on the fight and stealthily eliminate both sides before continuing on, though Alistair was confused at the further sign of unusual behaviour from the darkspawn.

It was not long after that fight that they finally came across the Children; they had made their way into a room that seemed to be covered in some sort of flesh and had what looked like egg sacs hanging everywhere, which burst open to reveal monstrous white grubs that charged their party. The grubs appeared simple to defeat at first, but there was an almost overwhelming amount of them, and they liked to gang up on a person, bringing them down to the ground rather like a pack of Mabari hounds.

Alistair himself was brought down by four of them, two of which appeared to be even larger with insect-like legs, and it was Ayla in her panther form who came to his aid, knocking two of them off and allowing him to regain his feet. She moved almost immediately to help Nathaniel, who had been brought down as well, and Alistair was relieved that Sigrun had gone further ahead and by the time she turned back, Ayla had already shifted back to normal, eliminating the need to explain anything to the dwarven woman. Nathaniel and Anders had already discovered her abilities during the mission in the Silverite Mine, where they had been stripped of their weapons and Ayla had been forced to shift to get everyone's equipment back so they could escape. Both had taken it surprisingly well, but Alistair still wanted to keep it as much of a secret as possible.

The last of the grub-like creatures were defeated shortly after that, and they continued on deeper into the fortress. Alistair could sense the broodmothers now, three of them far below, but again thought it best not to say anything as they continued on, finally coming across a long passageway, almost like a long tunnel. A roar of some sort vibrated the walls as they entered the tunnel, and Alistair frowned, wondering what it had come from. He could sense two darkspawn at the end of the corridor, above the broodmothers, but neither was an ogre; they felt more like Hurlocks, only slightly stronger, probably the talking ones they'd run across before. In any case, that roar didn't belong to either of them, so what else could be down there that wasn't a darkspawn?

"Is anyone else afraid of what we'll find at the end of this corridor?" Nathaniel murmured as they crept along.

"Yes," Alistair admitted at last in a low voice. "That wasn't a darkspawn." He could feel Ayla's terror spike, and he turned back to look at her, wanting to comfort her somehow, but she scowled when she saw him looking, her anger building and washing the terror away. He sighed in frustration and turned back, continuing down the tunnel, realizing she'd probably expected him to say she should go back again. Which he hadn't actually been going to do this time, but it wasn't worth arguing over; they'd simply need to have a long talk when they got back.

"Don't matter what it was," Oghren declared loudly behind him. "I'll chop it off at the knees either way!"

"Yes, you do that. You'll be just the right height for it too, I imagine," Anders said dryly.

"Shut it, sparkle-fingers!"

"Both of you shut up," Alistair hissed, as the end of the corridor was rapidly approaching. Miraculously, they listened, and the party crept forward as silently as possible, all armed and ready, into the circular room at the end of the corridor.

An incredibly large, fiery-armored golem, the biggest that Alistair had ever seen, stood in the center of the room, smashing a Hurlock in chain mail around as another Hurlock wearing red robes and wielding a staff stood watching.

"The Architect sends many, but does not come himself! He is a coward!" The staff-wielding darkspawn taunted as Alistair halted the others at the entrance, listening closely to the exchange. "I will kill you, and he will know he has failed to destroy the Lost. He will know that the Mother will tear him apart."

As if to punctuate those last words, the golem ripped the chain-mail wearing darkspawn neatly in half, causing a shower of tainted blood to spew all over the grated metal floor below. Alistair grimaced at the sheer power and brutality of the move, even as the staff-wielding darkspawn turned and spotted them.

"Who comes now?" he growled, pointing his staff at them. "I can feel you, but you are no darkspawn. What trickery is he planning? You will die, as all who serve the Architect will die! The Mother demands it!"

Alistair quickly moved to dispel the fireball that the magic-wielding darkspawn launched at him, and the fight was on. It was one of the most difficult fights they'd been in lately; the golem was capable of producing flames as well, and often combined its abilities with the Hurlock, making it incredibly difficult for him and Anders to use their own abilities to keep the spells and flames under control. Sigrun and Oghren worked on keeping the golem as busy as they could with their axes; Ayla and Nathaniel worked to keep the Hurlock distracted, while Alistair and Anders simply tried to keep them all from burning alive.

Eventually, two of Nathaniel's arrows struck home in the Hurlock's chest, causing him to stumble enough that Ayla was able to first hamstring him with one sword, then slit his throat with the other. As soon as he was down, Alistair directed Anders to use every ounce of his ice magic to freeze the golem, and eventually, between Oghren, Sigrun, and Alistair himself, they were able to shatter the golem apart, leaving their party wounded but victorious.

"He must have been protecting the broodmothers," Sigrun said once they'd managed to catch their breath and use the remaining potions they had to heal their wounds, as Anders' magic was almost completely exhausted.

Alistair nodded in agreement. "The broodmothers are that way." He pointed down the corridor opposite the one they'd come in. "They're further below ground, though. There might be more stairs beyond there."

"Let's put an end to them then – and whatever these darkspawn were planning." Sigrun marched towards the corridor, and Alistair and the others hurried after her.

It was another absurdly long corridor, but it eventually opened up into another room, this one larger and more square, with a walkway around the edges and a large square opening in the center. Almost immediately upon entering the room, tentacles began to pop up through the holes in the grates of the walkway, thrashing around and batting at them.

"Keep them busy or try to avoid them," Alistair shouted at the others. "I think the broodmothers are down in that hole!"

He hurried forward, dodging his way through the tentacles or bashing them aside with his shield, until he reached the edge of the walkway and was able to look downwards. As he'd suspected, there were three broodmothers far below them, likely a hundred feet down at the bottom of a pit of sorts. He glanced hastily around the room, eventually spotting four large, heavy chains at each corner of the hole, leading up to an immense sort of cauldron hanging from the ceiling far above his head – and directly over the hole.

"That there's a lyrium storage container!" Oghren called from behind him, obviously having seen the same thing. "It should be made of good, heavy metal – should smash them broodmothers to pieces!"

"Let's cut it down!" Alistair yelled back, hurrying over to the nearest chain. "Anders, can you freeze them to make it easier? Everybody else, try to keep the tentacles off us!"

The tentacles were popping up more frequently and with alarming accuracy, trying to lash out at them and knock them to the ground; Ayla, Sigrun and Nathaniel worked at keeping the tentacles away as Anders froze the first chain and Alistair and Oghren hacked away at it until it finally shattered. When it gave, one corner of the container tipped dangerously, but it still hung suspended from the ceiling. "One more should do it!" Alistair shouted, and they ran to the next nearest chain.

It took a few more minutes, especially as this time the tentacles succeeded in knocking himself and Oghren down a couple of times, but they finally broke through the second chain as well. This time, the weight of the container was too much for the remaining chains, and they all gave away, causing the heavy container to plummet to the ground below, hitting it with an earth-shaking thud that was nearly muffled by the unholy screams of the broodmothers below.

Every tentacle went limp and disappeared following the screams, and Alistair edged forward again, looking down into the hole below. He felt bile trying to rise in his throat at the sight of the three bodies crushed beneath the container below, but he forced it down, satisfied that they looked dead, and after a few seconds, he could no longer sense them anymore, either.

"Looks like we did it," he said at last, nodding to the others, who had all gathered at the edge of the hole as well. "Thanks for the help, as always."

"Of course. Words don't really do the broodmothers justice, do they?" Anders looked a trifle green as he turned away from the hole.

"They really don't," Ayla agreed shortly. Alistair tried to catch her gaze, but she refused to look his way, instead turning and facing away from both him and the broodmothers. He could feel her struggling to control both her terror and her disgust at the sight, and he sighed, wishing she wasn't quite so stubborn. But at least she was alive, as were the others, and he would hopefully be able to talk sense into her back at the Keep.

Sigrun came up to him, nodding formally to him in thanks. "We did it. If the rest of the Legion were alive, I know . . . I know they would honour you all in some way."

"Avenging them is honour enough," Alistair said quietly, thinking again of Ostagar, of Duncan and the other Wardens. He could only hope that Duncan would be proud of how he'd handled things so far. Sigrun smiled sadly at him as he went on, "I am only sorry that we could not save more of your companions."

Sigrun shook her head at him. "You did the best you could. You know, I used to wish I could get away from the others. Now I'm all alone and I just want them back. Silly, isn't it?" she finished with another sad smile.

"No, not at all," Alistair told her, thinking sadly of what he wouldn't give to lose to Gregor at another drinking contest or even to have Duncan scold him once more. He nearly jolted with surprise when he felt Ayla squeeze his hand, looking down at her with a little shock to see her give him a sympathetic smile before she moved away again. He understood the unspoken message then; she was still mad at him, but not so much that she wouldn't give him a brief moment of comfort. He had to shake his head at her stubbornness even as he felt grateful for her sympathy.

"Thank you," Sigrun murmured with a tearful nod, swallowing hard before she went on, "What's curious is that we seemed to be caught between two . . . factions of darkspawn. I've never heard of such a thing. The darkspawn are by nature vicious, and they have always fought amongst each other. But for there to be two organized factions . . . this is something else."

"Yes, that is a first for me as well," Alistair admitted. "Like you say, the infighting is normal, but the factions with different leaders struggling for power are something I've never heard of before. We've had the misfortune of running across the Architect before, but this is the first I've heard of the Mother. And it worries me; we've got enough problems without adding in a war amongst the darkspawn."

"Good, it's not just me then. Something has changed in the darkspawn, and I don't think I like it," Sigrun said with a shake of her head before she shrugged fatalistically. "Well, it's something to ponder. Especially when you need to be reminded that impending doom is always right around the corner."

"Ah, yes, I'm so glad that my job as Commander isn't just cleaning up the remaining darkspawn after the Blight. That would have been far too easy and boring, I'm sure," Alistair muttered sarcastically, hearing Anders snort behind him. "Anyway, what will you do now?" he asked Sigrun. He cast Ayla a quick, questioning glance, and she understood immediately what he meant, giving him the nod that meant he could trust Sigrun. Not that he'd really doubted it, given how helpful the dwarven woman had been so far, but it was always nice to know for sure.

Sigrun shrugged. "Oh, I'll probably disappear into the bowels of the Deep Roads, never to be seen again. One good thing about the Deep Roads is that you never run out of darkspawn to fight."

"Yes, that is my favourite thing about them," Alistair agreed dryly. He hesitated for a moment before he nodded to himself, his decision made. "But why not come with us?"

Sigrun blinked at him in surprise. "Go . . . with you? But that would go against my vow . . . and my plan to disappear into the Deep, unmourned and forgotten."

"Well, actually, it wouldn't," Alistair told her. "It would just delay your plans by hopefully a few decades, and let you help us out for a while first. And as you can see, we need all the help we can get."

"Be a Grey Warden?" Sigrun asked, wide-eyed. "Is that allowed? Can you be both part of the Legion and a Grey Warden?"

"I don't see why not," Alistair replied with a shrug, glancing at Oghren, who also shrugged in response. "You'll still be doing the same thing, fighting darkspawn and likely dying doing so," he went on, turning back to Sigrun. He couldn't really see how it would be a problem.

"And I'd be more effective at killing the darkspawn, won't I?" Sigrun asked eagerly, and Alistair nodded. "Ha! How does one say no to this? I will follow you. You seem an all-right sort, and I'm better off with you at my back than alone. Let's go, then. The darkspawn await!"

"Glad to have you join us," Alistair said with a smile, and the others agreed as he continued, "We should head back to the Keep now and arrange to have you go through the Joining." He just prayed that their good luck would continue; out of the five people that he'd put through the Joining since he'd started, only one had not made it, Mhairi, which was almost unheard of. He hoped that they would have a fifth success as they began the three-day trek back to the Keep – and that he could resolve his fight with Ayla fairly easily.

* * *

"Ah, Nathaniel, there you are!"

"What do you want, Anders?" Nathaniel asked with a sigh, lowering his bow and turning from the target to see Anders beaming behind him. Oghren, oddly enough, was there as well, standing next to Anders, and Nathaniel frowned, wondering just what was going on. They'd been back at the Keep for two days now, and tension was running high as the Commander and his wife were still not talking to one another, making everyone else uncomfortable as they tried not to get involved or get in the way of either one of them.

Nathaniel had understood why they didn't discuss what had happened on the way back to the Keep, as they likely didn't want everyone hearing their argument again, and they had stopped only very briefly for rests on the way back, not allowing much time for them to discuss things on their own. He did not know, however, why they had yet to resolve anything now that they were back at the Keep; he only knew that his last sparring session with Ayla earlier today had gotten rather more violent than usual, and he wasn't sure he wanted to spar with her again until things had been settled.

"Now why would you assume I want anything?" Anders asked innocently.

"Bah, just get to the point, sparkle-fingers," Oghren grumbled before Nathaniel could even reply.

"Oh, fine," Anders said with a sigh before turning back to Nathaniel. "We want you to talk to the Commander."

"About what?" Nathaniel asked warily, although he suspected he already knew the answer.

"About settling things with the lass before she kills me in the sparring ring," Oghren answered bluntly.

Nathaniel couldn't stop himself from smiling. "You too?"

"Aye, she gets right dangerous when she's angry," Oghren agreed with a shrug.

"And it doesn't seem like they're going to settle things on their own," Anders added. "It's getting kind of depressing around here with everyone walking on eggshells, so someone needs to fix it."

Nathaniel sighed, rubbing his forehead wearily. "Why me?"

Anders grinned. "Because you're the responsible one."

Well, admittedly Oghren or Anders likely wouldn't be good choices for this sort of thing, Nathaniel thought to himself. And both Sigrun and Velanna were only very recent additions to their group, Velanna having gone through the Joining just before they left for Kal'Hirol, and she hadn't been well enough to join them on the journey there. Neither one of them was likely to feel comfortable interfering in this matter, and Velanna would be a bad choice for this sort of thing anyway, despite how intriguing he personally found her. And of course none of the servants or guards would be likely to want to step in either, but – "What about the Seneschal?"

Oghren snorted. "Says it's 'not his place'. Anyway, I told the boy she'd be a handful a long time ago, but he wouldn't listen. Even said he didn't mind."

"Why would he?" Anders said cheerfully. "I wouldn't mind a handful like her either."

Nathaniel sighed and rolled his eyes, choosing to ignore Anders and instead addressing Oghren. "He's not 'the boy', he's our Commander and should be addressed as such." He knew that Oghren had known Commander Alistair during the Blight, back when Cousland had been Commander, and had likely had some difficulty with the change in roles when Cousland had taken the throne instead, but he should have had ample time to adjust by now. Even Nathaniel's initial resentment for the man as Cousland's best friend and one of the people that had been at his side when Cousland murdered his father had disappeared during the last two months fighting at his side, particularly when the Commander had gone out of his way to track down Delilah for him and he'd found out the truth about what really happened.

Oghren snorted, but before he could say anything in reply, Anders added, "Besides, if you really want to annoy him, he actually hates being called Commander more than anything else."

Oghren snickered. "Well in that case, I might just have to go and call him that."

"That's not a good reason –" Nathaniel began, then cut himself off, shaking his head. It was unlikely the dwarf would ever take anything seriously, anyway. "What do you expect me to say?" he asked instead, realizing that something did have to be done and nobody else would do it, so it might as well be him.

Anders shrugged. "How am I supposed to know? Just tell him he needs to talk to her before everybody goes crazy around here."

"Fine," Nathaniel said shortly, slinging his bow over his shoulder. "I'll do it, but I'm not making any promises."

He headed towards the Keep, guessing that the Commander was most likely in his study, where he'd been spending most of his time since he got back, hearing Oghren mumble behind him as he went, "Bah, women! More trouble than they're worth!" and Anders' answer of, "I don't know about _that."_ He walked faster, deciding to get this over with before those two drove him insane.

As he suspected, Commander Alistair was seated at the desk in his study, head in his hands as he studied a parchment laid out before him. The entire desk was crowded with scrolls and piles of parchment, and there was a pallet set up in the corner of the office as well, covered with rumpled bedding. Nathaniel raised his eyebrows at the sight, realizing that Alistair probably had been avoiding the room he and Ayla shared the last couple of nights. Yes, something definitely had to be done, for as far as Nathaniel knew, Ayla had been sleeping out on the battlements, since the nights had been warm as of late.

He stopped in front of the desk, clearing his throat. "Excuse me, Commander, do you have a moment?"

"Maker, yes." Alistair shoved the parchment away. "If I re-read that paragraph one more time, I'll go insane." He looked up expectantly at Nathaniel. "What did you need?"

"Well, actually . . ." Nathaniel hesitated, then decided there was no point in beating around the bush. "I need you to make up with your wife, ser. We all do."

Alistair blinked at him in shock for a moment, before his mouth tightened a bit and, with a sudden edge to his tone, he said, "Excuse me?"

Nathaniel had only truly seen his Commander angry twice so far; once during the argument with Ayla, and the other time in the Silverite Mine when the Architect had rambled about experimenting on them and the other Wardens. He could see all the warning signs of that anger coming on now, and he had no wish to repeat the experience, so he said quickly, "I realize it's not my place, but somebody had to say something. It's becoming bad for morale. Everyone in the Keep is walking on eggshells because of it."

Alistair stared at him for a long moment before he let out a sigh and leaned back in his chair. "Is it really that bad?"

"Yes, ser."

"I'd like to make up with her," Alistair admitted after another moment, "but I don't feel I was in the wrong, and she's being rather unreasonable about it. I don't want to just give in for the sake of peace when she can't admit she was wrong to defy orders."

"Well, to be fair, ser, I don't think either of you was entirely in the right," Nathaniel replied. When Alistair scowled at him, he held up a hand. "Just . . . hear me out. I understand you were worried about her – the broodmothers are . . . horrifying . . . but we _did_ need all the help we could get, as I said before. I do not honestly think that mission would have been successful had we lost any of the people we had there. And –" he shrugged – "it seems rather ridiculous to be so angry at one another when the root cause of the argument is that you were both worried about each other. Besides, we understand that she is your wife and not a Warden, and is only coming along to help because she can. I don't believe that any of us expect you to treat her the same as us, nor should you have to."

"Are you sure about that?" Alistair asked quietly. "I do not want to cause any . . . resentment or anything by having to treat her differently sometimes."

"I'm sure," Nathaniel answered without hesitation. He didn't have a problem with it, and he'd never heard the others express any concerns about it, either. "Honestly, I think we're all just grateful that she's willing to put herself in danger to help us, and that you're willing to let her."

Alistair snorted. "I don't think I have any choice in the matter, but I'm glad to hear it won't cause any problems. And I suppose the argument was rather ridiculous. Still . . ."

"Just because you go to talk to her doesn't mean you have to be the only one to give in," Nathaniel pointed out. "It just means that one of you needs to start talking so it can be resolved."

"I suppose that's true," Alistair agreed. He tilted his head thoughtfully. "And just why did you come to me first, and not her?"

"She didn't exactly seem to be in the best frame of mind earlier when I was sparring with her," Nathaniel said wryly. "I thought it might be safer to start with you."

Alistair laughed. "That was probably a good choice." After a moment of silence, he stood up from the desk. "Fine, I'll see what I can do about figuring this out. Thanks for the advice."

"You're welcome, Commander. And if you ever need help with any of . . . that," Nathaniel gestured at the stacks of papers, "I might be able to lend a hand. I was instructed in how to run an arling, after all."

Alistair looked back at the papers and then at Nathaniel before he nodded. "I might just take you up on that some day." With that, he left the room.

Nathaniel followed him out, deciding to head back to the archery range, and thinking to himself as he went that joining the Wardens just might have been the right decision after all.

* * *

Alistair found Ayla in the practice yard, as he'd suspected he would. She was flinging several of her daggers into one of the straw dummies before she sliced its head clean off with one of her swords. Still being able to feel that underlying anger simmering in her, he winced before calling out, "I hope that wasn't supposed to be me."

She whirled around, looking surprised to see him there before she shrugged and sheathed her sword. "Maybe." She sighed, shook her head, and then said softly, "No."

He smiled, thinking that perhaps this might go better than he'd expected. "Good, I'm glad to hear it. We need to talk."

She nodded. "We do, but only if you're not going to start with 'I wasn't the one in the wrong' this time around."

Alistair sighed, knowing that was a dig at the first discussion they'd tried to have in their room the night they'd returned, which had only ended in more yelling and the stalemate that had occurred over the past two days. He admitted he'd handled it poorly by saying that right away, but he'd been thinking the whole way back to the Keep about all the previous arguments they'd had. While none of them had even been close to being on the scale of this one, he'd realized that he was almost always the one to cave in or admit he was wrong, and he'd been determined not to do that anymore. Still, he could – and should – have handled that better, and he would not make that mistake this time.

"No, I won't," he told her. "It's been pointed out to me that I wasn't entirely right either." When she started to smile, he added softly, "But neither were you. Look, Ayla, I know you're my mate and not one of the Wardens, but you can't just openly defy me in front of them, either. You know how worried I've been about being Commander and whether I'd be any good or anyone would want to follow me. And it really doesn't help when you tell me I made a stupid decision in front of all of them. That's why I've been so angry." _Well, that and you're stubborn_ , he added mentally, but decided it was best if he kept that one to himself.

"I didn't say that," she muttered, but when he raised his eyebrows at her, she sighed, and he could feel that her anger was slowly starting to melt away. "I suppose it might have come across that way, though. You're right, I shouldn't have said it in front of them, but it _was_ the wrong decision. I know you were worried, but it was really no different than any other mission, and you did need my help. Look, if you'd said it because it was a situation where I wouldn't have been helpful, like if you were worried I might lose control or it was a place full of some sort of noxious gas where my powers would have been more of a hindrance than anything, you would have been right. But you just didn't want me to get hurt, and while I get that, I'm not going to listen to it if my not being there means someone else might get hurt or killed. Which very well might have happened."

Alistair ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. "You've got a point, but . . . it wasn't just about you getting hurt. If they'd taken you to become a broodmother, I . . . Maker, that's a fate worse than death! I was terrified when I saw them trying to take Sigrun, and so were you! I could feel it, and it was killing me to know how scared you were and to not be able to make it better! I knew you were scared before, but I didn't realize just how much, or we probably would have had this argument the first time we ran into broodmothers."

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I was trying not to be so scared, but I couldn't help it. That's one of the downsides of the bond. That and it made the fight much worse. I could feel how angry you were at me, and it only made me angrier at you."

"It was the same for me," Alistair admitted. He'd also realized later that this was the first argument they'd had since they bonded, and that much like being able to feel one another's desire made it harder for them to control, so too did feeling each other's anger. "We'll have to be more careful about that from now on when we argue. Though I hope to never have another argument like that. I . . . I really missed you, and I'm sorry."

"I am too." She crossed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around him, and he pulled her tightly against him, relieved beyond measure to feel her there again. She leaned back after a moment, looking up at him as she said, "But please don't ever try to send me back unless you think I won't be helpful, okay? It doesn't matter how scared I am, I'm not going to let it stop me. And I told you before, that if we were going to get married, you would have to get used to the idea that I won't be staying behind when you're in danger. And . . . when you tried to send me back like that, even ordering me, well . . . I was worried that maybe you didn't understand me anymore. That maybe you were starting to wish you'd married someone who _would_ stay behind when it was safe and do what she was told."

"Maker, Ayla, how could you think that?" Alistair exclaimed, shocked. He'd even felt the spike of fear from her when she said that, and knew that she'd really believed that of him, which made him feel almost sick to his stomach. "I would _never_ think that, no matter how mad I might be or how much I might wish you'd stay safe! I love you exactly as you are, and that's never going to change, okay? You can feel how much I love you through the bond, can't you, just like I can feel your love? Did that ever change during that argument, or after, even the tiniest bit?"

She looked up at him for a long moment, obviously surprised as she thought about it, before she shook her head and smiled. "No, it didn't. I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking clearly, obviously."

"Well, neither was I." He hesitated, squeezing her waist gently before he went on, "I . . . well, lately I've been thinking a lot about how much danger I put you in. After that thing with the Architect, when he talked about how fascinating of a – a _test_ subject you were, and tried to convince me to leave you behind, I . . ." He shook his head, the very memory infuriating and disgusting him, so he cut off that train of thought and continued, "You've almost died before because of me, because I'm a Warden. Every threat to your life, the archdemon, the Architect, the broodmothers, it's all because of _me._ And it only seems to be getting worse, so I thought maybe . . . you'd really be safer, better off, if you weren't around me all the time. That's the other reason I tried to send you back."

"Alistair, no," she told him sternly, gripping the front of the blue silk tunic the Seneschal had forced him into and pulling him down closer to her. " _None_ of that is your fault, and you really need to stop thinking it is. The danger to _both_ our lives keeps happening because this world is full of darkness, and it's our destiny to fight it. And it's always been my decision to be where I am, to be fighting at your side, and I will keep choosing to be at your side, no matter how bad it gets. It will always be my choice, because I love you and, honestly, because I love to fight. I love the battlefield, and I love it when we get to save someone like Sigrun, and prevent something bad from happening to other people like her. I love what we do almost all of the time, except when there's something like the broodmothers, and even then, I love it once we've defeated them and know that they're at peace now. So no, I'm not better off away from you. The best place for me, no matter what is happening around us, is - and will always be – right by your side. Okay?"

"Okay," he repeated. "If that's really how you feel." When she nodded, he felt his heart soar with happiness, freed of at least one of the burdens that had been dragging him down lately. She didn't regret marrying him, and she sincerely loved the life he'd given her by staying with the Wardens. He'd felt the conviction behind her words just now, and nothing could have made him happier. Well, maybe one thing could, he thought, tipping her head up to kiss her.

Their lips met, hot and searching, and _Maker_ , how he missed the taste of her. It had been over a week since the last time he'd kissed her, let alone made love to her, and now that he was no longer angry with her, his body was very eagerly reminding him of that fact as lust swirled through him, burning him up from the inside out – both his and hers. He slipped his hands down to that lovely ass of hers, gripping it tightly and pressing her hips into his, moaning at the friction against his already aching arousal. He could feel her answering moan as she rubbed her body against his, and even with her wearing her armor it still felt amazing, he thought hazily. It was only when she started sliding her hands beneath his tunic and then beneath the waistband of his breeches that reason returned to him.

He pulled back, gasping for breath before he managed to say, "We shouldn't do this here." Not that they'd been doing a good job of keeping things private since they'd arrived at the Keep, but the practice yard was one of the places they'd managed to stay out of so far, and despite how incredibly aroused he was at the moment, he thought they should probably keep it that way.

She took a step forward again, closing the miniscule amount of distance he'd put between them, and looked up at him, her eyes blazing with heat. "Yes, we should." Before he could protest, she'd tripped him up and pounced on him while he fell backwards to the ground.

He wrapped his arms around her instinctively, cradling her against him while he fell flat on his back, and somehow she ended up straddling him exactly where he needed her to be. She rocked her hips against him as she started unlacing her armor, and the electric shock of desire that raced through his veins chased away any resistance he might have had. "Okay, love, whatever you say," he agreed breathlessly.

She beamed at him. "Then we finally agree on something." He could only nod, lost in his desire and love for her, thanking the Maker for his sudden reversal of fortune as she pulled her armor off.

* * *

"Yep, this one is mine, sparkle-fingers."

"Now, wait a minute, I bet five sovereigns they'd make it up today, and they did," Anders protested.

"You also bet they'd make it inside before they jumped each other," Oghren said smugly. "While I bet ten sovereigns they'd jump each other wherever they were when they made up – and they did. Fork it over."

"You know, I'm beginning to think you have an unfair advantage here," Anders grumbled as he reluctantly dug out his pouch. "You knew them before they came here, after all."

Oghren smirked at him unrepentantly. "Sure did, man-skirt. Maybe you should have thought about that before you made the bet, huh?"

"Oh, for the Maker's sake. Don't tell me this was all about some stupid bet?" Nathaniel said in disgust as he walked up to them.

"No, of course not," Anders said innocently, snatching his hand back. Oghren simply grinned at Nathaniel as he pocketed the coins Anders had just handed over. "It was only partly about that, and mainly about getting everything back to normal. Which you did. Good job, Nathaniel."

"More like good job to the lass," Oghren muttered, peering around Anders at the training yard several feet away. "Ya know, maybe women are worth the trouble."

"Don't look over there," Nathaniel snapped, exasperated as he stepped between Oghren and his view of the training yard. "In fact, I suggest both of you go very far away before I decide I need new targets."

"Guess we'd better leave, sparkle-fingers."

"Yeah, I think I suddenly feel the need to go visit the library," Anders said, grinning before the two of them scurried back to the keep, Nathaniel shaking his head as he watched them go. Once they were out of sight, Nathaniel decided he'd better go make sure the guards kept everyone away from the training yard until the Commander was finished making up with his wife. At least, as Anders said, everything would be back to normal now.


End file.
